Treason To Bring Out The Truth
by catalystkrish
Summary: The first time Sir Jacin Clay accepts his feelings for Princess Winter Blackburn has to, of course, be during his trial for treason. In a moment of life and death, he decides to sort out the true treason: his feelings for Winter.
Brought forth in trial for treason. He had been treasonous, and was certain that Levana already knew that, too. So why was a trial being held?

He knew.

It was for her. Undoubtedly, seeing him there charged for treason and several other crimes, seeing him sentenced to some cruel punishment, seeing him subject to the taunts of Thaumaturge Aimery- it would kill her. She was too delicate, too beautiful. The suffering of others broke her more than her own pain. Levana, driven by jealousy, would like nothing more than to force Winter to hold witness to this particular trial.

He would have to spare her. Make it as painless as possible. Grit his teeth and lie, so that she wouldn't have to see him hurt.

And at the same time, spare him the heart-wrenching pleading that would be inevitable. God- if he met her eyes, if he faced the concern and love and innocence and _pain_ that would reflect in the gray-green pupils, he didn't trust his ability to keep in his feelings.

She was going to be death of him, and he loved her for it.

"Come on," one of the guards said gruffly. "It's your turn."

Jacin followed him through the doors and into the court. He could feel Levana's power, pulsing outward, hovering just above them all and poised to snap down on anyone who resisted control.

He cleared his mind of all thoughts the moment he stepped into her circle of power, and felt her influence sweep over him, examining him before losing interest and moving on to the guards that flanked him. As she searched them, she spoke.

"Sir Clay. I trust you know the charges against you?"

He kept his eyes lowered, not out of respect, but out of the knowledge that Winter was right next to her. Even though she wasn't in his view, he could feel the potency of her beauty as powerfully- or even more so, if that were possible- as Levana's. He didn't trust himself to meet her eyes.

He knew that if he did, he would be over there in a split second, free of his bonds by the inhuman strength her gaze always seemed to give him, ready to protect her from Aimery and the leering gazes of the spectators, ready to soothe her and tell her that it was all okay, that he loved her more than anything in the entire universe and that-

Levana's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch and Jacin forced the thoughts from his head. 'Forget about her,' he ordered himself. 'Ignore her.'

He almost laughed at the words. One could not simply ignore Princess Winter Blackburn. She captured your heart with a single smile, a single flutter of those long, dark lashes. Her skin was like melted chocolate, and the urge to reach out and run a hand down her cheek, or her arm, or her lips-

It was too much, sometimes. He trained himself everyday, for hours, and still. She could unravel him with a single look.

"I love you, Jacin." She had said those words so many times that he knew they didn't hold any meaning anymore. Yet his heart still did backflips at the thought of those full, pink lips forming the sounds that made up his name, his identity, and there were certainly nights where he couldn't sleep, trapped in his consuming thoughts about her.

He went through the the trial like it was another fighting formation, another routine. His responses were mechanic and tailored perfectly to the situation. He was the perfect soldier.

But he could feel her watching him. Begging him to turn his head and look at her.

Out of the question. This trial was between him and the psychotic queen alone.

When he left, he was so relieved that he wanted to cry. He was still alive. As long as he was alive, Winter would be safe.

And then, of course, Her Majesty Queen Levana had to go and make him Winter's personal guard.

That just meant all the more sleepless nights, sitting outside her bedroom door, tormented with the knowledge that five feet away there she was, small and warm and beautiful, cocooned in white silk blankets that would block the cold from slipping through the thin fabric of her nearly see-through nightgown.

She had complained to him about the nightgown once, the first time he'd ever seen her in it. He hadn't been listening, having been too busy trying to keep from gawking.

Why, why, why did she have to be so-

It drove him insane. He wanted her so badly- and of course he couldn't have her.

It drove him fucking insane.


End file.
